


The Spirit of Scientific Inquiry

by Alethia



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Multiple Sex Positions, Physical Disability, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Snark, just so much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We try it out. In the spirit of scientific inquiry."</p><p>Raven pinned him with a look, the <i>seriously?</i> written all over her face. "You mean we have sex."</p><p>"...in the spirit of scientific inquiry," Wick finished, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spirit of Scientific Inquiry

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after episode 2.04 "Many Happy Returns." Also over on [LJ](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/694965.html).

The cobbled-together chair dug into Wick's ass as he shifted—they really needed to just design and build some new ones; maybe he'd put Lee on that—picking at his plate in the mess tent, using a fork to examine today's choice piece of meat. He was at a total loss. Shouldn't they post a sign or something? 

Hearing the tent flap open, Wick glanced up and clocked Sinclair zeroing in on him from the door. As he approached, Wick gestured to his plate.

"Think I should find someone to ask what this is or just close my eyes and think of England?"

"I leave that to your discretion," Sinclair said, wry as ever. 

Wick dropped the fork and shook his head. He looked to Sinclair again, noticing he wasn't heading for the food. "Did you need me?"

Sinclair glanced around, checking to see that no one was within earshot. Weird.

He sat down, lowering his voice: "I'm concerned about Reyes."

Wick sat up straighter, not expecting that. "What? She's fine," he said quickly, hearing the defensive note in it, but unable to take it back. 

"Really," Sinclair said, bone-dry, the _are you fucking kidding me?_ not hidden at all. 

So Wick relented and inclined his head. "She'll _be_ fine. Cut her some slack, she's still getting used to the leg." 

Sinclair smiled a little, like that amused him for some reason. Wick shot him a look that asked what the fuck, but Sinclair just shook his head. "Of that I have no doubt. Because you're going to help her."

Wick blinked. "I'm...what?"

"Making her that brace was a start, a good one."

"I was just," Wick waved a hand, "being nice. It wasn't calculated."

"Did I suggest otherwise?" Sinclair asked, mild.

Okay, so maybe he'd gotten a little defensive there. 

"Whatever, I already made her the brace—which she's defiling with her 'upgrades,' I'll have you know. It's not like she needs another."

"I agree," Sinclair said simply. He didn't offer anything more.

Wick shook his head. "Wait, what are we talking about right now?"

Sinclair smiled at him like he was the slow kid in the class. Wick fucking _hated_ when he did that. 

"Your new assignment is to help Raven. For some reason, she listens to you."

Wick looked at him askance: "The last time I tried to talk to her about anything other than work she nearly brained me with a socket wrench."

"And that's a memory I'll treasure forever," Sinclair said, mouth straight but laughter in his eyes. 

And fine, it was funny after the fact, but...

Wick shook his head, sobering: "I fix systems. I don't fix people."

Sinclair nodded, like he _heard_ that. He leaned in, as if relaying a secret: "You're my apprentice, Wick. I haven't been training you to be just another member of the engineering crew, one of the boys." Wick frowned; this didn't sound like Sinclair was seeing reason. "You have the position you do because you're a leader. And as a leader, half the job is managing people."

Fuck. 

Still, he had to try: "Exactly. _You_ should be handling this. I'm still in training."

Sinclair half-smiled. "The other half is delegating. Get it done, Wick."

With a final pat to the table, Sinclair stood and walked away, discussion over.

Wick called to his back: "You realize that means you're doing none of the work here!"

But Sinclair didn't even pause, just strode right out the flap of the tent, leaving Wick alone, looking around, wondering what had just happened.

"Well, fuck."

***

Wick found her in the engineering workroom, where else, the guts of a rectangular gray controller unit spilled out over her table.

"Hey," he greeted. "What're you working on?"

"Trying to figure out why this power inverter's on the fritz. You?"

 _You_ , he wanted to say, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. "Efficiency analysis of the grid," he said instead, shrugging. 

Raven snorted, but didn't comment. 

"What?" he asked, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"I didn't say anything."

"Raven."

She looked up, something mocking in her expression. "You're just all in your head, dreaming up maybes, while the rest of us are actually doing the work." She gestured to the table before her. 

"Yeah, that's right, what I do has no value."

"You said it." She turned back to the inverter.

Wick studied her for a beat. Maybe Sinclair was right to be concerned; Wick had no problem taking her shit and giving it right back twofold, but her insults usually ran in the good-natured ribbing direction. This was different.

He could see the shadows under her eyes, the stray plates she'd discarded nearby, eating all her meals here, doing everything here. Where she could be useful. 

Where she could be alone.

"Everything okay?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral, trying to be the bigger man. 

"Why, you gonna do an efficiency analysis of me, too?" Raven didn't look up at him, but her tone could strip paint.

Fuck being the bigger man. "Oh, screw you. Excuse me for giving a damn."

She did look up at that, seeming to relish the fight. "No one asked you to," she said, biting. "I don't need you looking over my shoulder, Wick, I'm doing just fine."

"Whoa, I'm just being a friend," he said, holding out his hands. 

"You 'just being a friend' to Lee or Hughes?"

"Last I checked, they hadn't gone through some shit. If they had, I would." 

"Right." Her tone called bullshit, but Wick was at a loss. How did they get here? Because last he checked, he'd just asked her how she was.

"I don't even know what you're all up about."

Raven stopped working, staring hard at the components under her hands. Her voice was frustrated: "Everyone's watching me, expecting me to fall apart, like I can't hack it."

"Hey, that's your deal. I don't think that and neither does anybody else. Just because we give a shit how you're doing doesn't mean we're, whatever, treating you like you're weak. No need to turn it into an asshole competition." There was probably a gentler way to say that, but hell, that's what she seemed to be reacting to. 

Go figure, Raven Reyes couldn't handle people being kind to her.

Raven frowned, like that had actually reached her, like she was maybe rethinking. Still, she couldn't just admit she was wrong: "That's not what I'm doing," she said, quieter.

"It is. I don't know if you noticed, but we all have to work together and that's kinda hard when you're biting people's heads off. So do some tai chi, meditate, or just fucking get laid already. Maybe it'll chill you out."

"Like that'll happen now," she muttered, less angry, more bitter. As soon as she said it, regret flashed across her face, like she hadn't meant to.

That look stopped Wick short. "What's that mean?"

Raven glared at him, getting angry again, like he was being deliberately obtuse. She gestured down to her leg brace. "I don't know if _you_ noticed, but I'm damaged goods over here."

Huh? 

All the irritation drained out of Wick, replaced with confusion. That didn't even make _sense_. 

"That's total crap."

Raven shook her head and turned away. "Whatever."

Wick stepped forward, getting her attention again. "No. Hang on, sorry. That was—I didn't mean it like that. Well, I did, but—" He broke off, frustrated. He was so not equipped to deal with her psychological issues. Fuck Sinclair, anyway. 

Wick took a breath and collected himself. "Raven, let me assure you, you are eminently fuckable." How _the fuck_ were they even talking about this? He felt like he'd missed three steps in this conversation. Being paranoid about being seen as weak, he could kinda understand that one. But reassuring her that dudes would still want to bang her? Since when did she give a shit?

Also, he could say _I'd do you_ , but he was pretty sure that'd make him seem like an asshole. Even if it was the truth. 

Raven just scoffed at his reassurance. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, come on. Where's this coming from?" he asked, voice softer as he stepped up next to her, leaning against the work bench. Because it couldn't be coming from, like, _reality_. 

Raven rounded on him, anger still fueling her. "I can't _do_ anything, Wick!" She hit her injured leg. "I can only walk because of the brace, but without it I can barely move my leg."

"So?"

"So?!"

"Yeah, so what? Trust me, you are not the first person to have a leg out of commission and it's not a sexual dealbreaker." Wick pitched his voice low, coaxing. "Seriously, what's this really about?" 

Raven wouldn't meet his eyes, just studied her clenched fists like she was waging some internal debate. "It won't be like it was," she finally said, barely above a whisper. "Nothing is."

"Of course it won't."

Her head snapped up at that, like she hadn't expected him to acknowledge it. Which...no duh, everything was different. That was downright self-evident. 

"Raven, you went through a life-changing thing. It won't be the same, but that doesn't mean it can't be _good_." 

She searched his eyes for a beat, like it was finally dawning on her that they were talking about her sex life, that she was actually _talking_ to him. For real. "That's easy to say when you don't have to live with it."

Wick nodded the point, tilting his head and leaning closer. "I grant you that, a hundred percent. But come on, you're telling me we can't fix this? We figured out a way to work around your leg with the brace, we'll figure out a way here, too."

She looked away at those words, seemingly trying to get some distance. "I don't know when this became a 'we' thing," she said to the power inverter, voice perfectly even.

"Hey, I'm your friend. And friends don't let friends have bad sex."

Raven actually laughed a little at that, shaking her head and looking back to him. "That's not a thing."

"I totally just made it one." Wick smiled his most charming smile. 

Raven just rolled her eyes, exasperated. 

Wick turned coaxing, light, persuasive: "Come on, Reyes, let me prove you wrong. I can't bear the thought of you giving up on getting some. It hurts my soul."

"I'm not hearing just how you're gonna prove your hypothesis," she dodged.

"We try it out. In the spirit of scientific inquiry."

Raven pinned him with a look, the _seriously?_ written all over her face. "You mean we have sex."

"...in the spirit of scientific inquiry," Wick finished, obviously. 

She was silent for a beat, gauging his seriousness, hell, making _him_ question his seriousness. When did this become about getting her in bed? _Was_ this about getting her in bed? 

Wick considered it for a moment. Of course he wanted to sleep with Raven; that was not a newsflash. But this wasn't about that, at least not all of it. He didn't like the thought of her sitting in the workroom, all alone, thinking she was broken and no one gave a damn, that no one would ever want her again. That couldn't happen. They had to come up with a plan to fix it because _it couldn't happen_. 

Of course, as plans went, offering to sleep with Raven Reyes took the freaking crazy cake. He was dimly surprised she hadn't just decked him. 

She still might. 

"In the spirit of scientific inquiry," she said slowly, "one data point is meaningless."

Wick waved that off. "I'm talking about working through all sorts of ways you can do it. And it can be good."

She searched his eyes, like she was trying to find something that made sense to her...and good luck with that because he was so far out on a limb he didn't even recognize the tree.

How did he end up offering to fuck her again? He was pretty sure this was not what Sinclair had in mind.

Raven's gaze turned inward, a jumble of emotions flickering through her expression almost faster than he could catalogue, but he didn't miss the aching loneliness. And fuck, did that make him want to hurt things. 

She finally looked back up at him, slowly nodding her head. "Okay."

Wick blinked. "Okay?" It was one thing to offer up a crazy plan that of course she'd reject because duh. But the key part of that was the rejection. 

Where the hell was the rejection?

Raven half-smiled at him, something wobbly and vulnerable in it. "You're so sure. Show me what you got, Wick. If you're game."

Oh, what, now she was challenging _him_? He couldn't let that stand.

"Am I game to fuck you in the name of science?" Raven nodded, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. That tiny thing suddenly sent a thrill of heat careening through Wick and it finally hit him: _he was going to have sex with Raven_. "I think I'll manage."

***

Wick led the way into his quarters, losing his jacket and tossing it over a chair. "The first thing is you gotta tell me if something doesn't work for you." He kicked off his boots next, onto the mat next to the wall, so he didn't track mud everywhere. "Your leg won't bear weight, so doggy-style and the cowgirls are out. Well, at least without something overhead to hold onto." Wick considered that—he could totally bolt a bar above the bed—but Raven was being suspiciously quiet. He looked back at her. 

She stood just inside the closed door, jacket still on, eyes downcast, not moving. Huh. 

"What's up?" he asked.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"It was a brilliant idea five minutes ago. What happened?"

Something uncertain flickered through her expression as she met his eyes, then looked away. "I don't know, it's just...weird. I mean, isn't this weird?" Raven gestured around the room like that meant something. 

Wick considered her for a moment, thinking it through. She'd been with Finn _forever_ and from the way everyone talked she was totally faithful to him. Even now, he heard nothing about what Raven got up to...and Wick heard everything. That meant most of the sex she'd had was in the context of a relationship. 

In that light, yeah, it was kind of weird. So he changed tactics. He moved over to her, reaching out to tug at her jacket, pulling her close. "It's only weird if you let it be. C'mere." He leaned down, slow enough that she could bail if she wanted to. 

Instead she lifted her face to his, meeting his kiss halfway. That was promising. 

Wick kept it slow, his mouth sliding over hers, sweet, before coming back for more. Raven opened her mouth to it, arms going around his shoulders as she leaned into him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, careful, just enough to tease before retreating again. He could taste the echo of mint leaves on her tongue.

Raven made a soft sound then, hand going to the back of his neck and _crushing_ their mouths together, turning the kiss molten, all tongues and heat and panting breaths. She pushed herself closer, rubbing up against his already half-hard cock, and Wick broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers for a beat before pulling away. 

Raven already looked mussed—lips red, tendrils of hair coming out of her ponytail, totally turned on and just—

Anyway. 

"Boots go over there," he said, low, voice husky, nodding to the mat. Her eyes darted over and this time she didn't hesitate, kicking them off while shrugging out of her orange jacket. It seemed kissing conquered weirdness. Excellent.

Wick grabbed her hand and pulled her close again, dipping in for another kiss as he guided them both back toward the bed. He kept kissing her as his fingers stole under the hem of her shirt, pushing it up until he found skin. 

Raven shivered at the touch, breaking the kiss to look down at his hands, still just toying, asking for permission. He just had to wait for her to come to him. 

Raven looked back up at him, plucking at the fabric of his blue shirt. "Off," she said, mischief in her eyes, and Wick grinned in return. 

"Yes, ma'am." He dropped her shirt to shuck his own—

Only to find her doing the same, carelessly tossing it aside as she reached for him again. 

Wick took his time kissing her, learning what she liked, then teasing her with it. He explored the expanse of skin under his fingertips, ghosting over too-prominent ribs, around to her back and the raised scar that was only one of the lingering consequences of a bullet to the spine.

She shivered at that touch, pulling back to meet his eyes. Then she smiled, half-bitter. "At least I can still feel that."

"You are so strong," he marveled, hand moving to cup her cheek, not for the first time a little in awe of her.

Something vulnerable bloomed in her eyes at that and she didn't respond, just leaned in for another kiss, her hands sliding over his chest and around to his back, pulling him close. 

He tried to pour that feeling into the kiss, since she couldn't accept the words themselves. When he broke away again, she looked a little dazed, flush high on her cheeks. 

He grinned at her, then dipped down, kissing her collarbone, trailing kisses down as he lowered himself to sit on the bed, mouthing over her bra down to her belly, stopping at the button to her pants.

Raven's hands went to his hair, not pushing or pulling, just feeling.

Wick looked up at her as he slid his hands to her brace, asking the question with his eyes and his hands, not putting it into words. 

Raven's gaze flickered from him to the brace and back again. Then she nodded, a tiny inclination of her head that meant a whole hell of a lot more than just that. 

Wick rolled with it, opening the straps that held the brace flush to her leg, that gave it its support structure. It took no time at all to strip it off and set it aside, Raven bracing her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance. Just in case. 

He didn't mind the idea of Raven leaning on him. He turned his head and dropped a kiss on her arm, clocking her sharp intake of breath.

Wick's hands went to the button on her pants then, once again asking without asking. And again, Raven nodded, watching as he unbuttoned and unzipped them, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he tugged her pants down and off, leaving her just in bra and boyshorts. 

That vulnerable look was back in her eyes, so Wick grabbed her hips and pulled her into his lap, making sure to physically guide her left leg so she could sit astride him. He kissed her again, arms wrapped around her, the two of them closer than before, even more intimate, touching all over, skin to skin. He tried to ignore her weight against his hard-on, sending fire through his blood.

Wick lost himself in it, the give and take of their mouths, the hitching of her breath when he did something she liked, the way she pressed down against him, deliberate and goading.

She gasped aloud when he flipped them, sprawling her on her back, Wick still in between her legs, leaning down for more kisses. He pressed his hips into hers, no longer ignoring the effect she had on him, grinding his cock against her with purpose. Raven thrust back as much as she could, making him groan. 

"Okay, we're really wearing too many clothes," he panted against her mouth, already moving back to do something about that. 

Raven grunted agreement, hands going behind her to work at her bra, while Wick shimmied out of his own pants and underwear, tossing them off the bed, instantly forgotten. Instead he crawled back on top of her, mouthing at her bellybutton as she finally got her bra undone and dispensed with, following it with her hair band, hastily tossed aside.

Wick leaned up to kiss her again, fingers playing with a nipple, eliciting a soft sound from her. He trailed his hands down to her boyshorts, fingers tangling with hers there. He pulled back to watch as they both slipped their fingers under and pushed them down, something unbearably intimate about it. 

Raven lifted her hips and let him draw her underwear the rest of the way down, then off. He trailed his fingers back up her body as he returned, up the leg she couldn't feel, seeing in her eyes exactly when sensation kicked in. 

It was some kind of victory that she didn't shy away from the touch. He half-expected her to, but she just met his gaze squarely, letting him see all the vulnerability there. 

She was so fucking strong, he couldn't even begin to fathom it some days. 

Wick moved up to take her mouth again, the kiss deep and searching. It was too much, he knew, he was giving everything away, laying it all out there for her...but he didn't know how to stop himself. And in the end, he didn't really want to. 

He settled one hand on her breast, thumb brushing over the peaked nipple. He broke the kiss and detoured to scrape his teeth over it, getting another shiver and arch up, Raven trying to press herself into him. 

Then he shifted between her legs again, his cock thick and insistent, and right. He needed to focus, to _not_ get lost in this. It was about her and figuring out what worked.

Wick darted in for a quick kiss, then smiled, turning it light. "So missionary's not gonna be a problem. Boring, but doable."

Raven actually flushed a little bit, color in her cheeks, down her neck to her chest, thoroughly delightful. He wondered if she'd ever actually talked through the sex she'd be having. 

No time like the present. 

She quickly seemed to get over that embarrassment, finding her voice: "Only you could find sex boring, Wick."

"I'm just saying, there's no reason we can't apply a little ingenuity." His hand slipped between her legs, teasing, and she shifted, biting her lip as he slipped two fingers inside her. She was wet and ready, hot against him. He had to force himself not to think about what it'd feel like to have that heat surrounding him. 

No need to test his control just yet. He had a feeling he'd be doing quite enough of that tonight.

"Going down on you won't be a problem, either," he said, curling his fingers toward him as he spoke, finding her g-spot and making her shiver and arch. "It's just a matter of moving your legs where he wants them."

Raven said nothing, just watched his mouth like she was hungry, eyes glittering. 

Wick cleared his throat and looked away, thinking it through, centering himself so he could do this without losing it completely. 

He looked back at her when he had his control firmly in place. He pulled his fingers out, trying not to let her soft sound get to him. Then he shifted so he was kneeling between her legs. 

The sight froze him, still not mentally prepared to find her in his bed, legs open, hair loose around her head, ready and waiting for him. God, the things he wanted to do to her... 

Right. Not the point. 

He cleared his throat, grasping at some kind of distance. "Any of the positions with you lying down should be doable." He took hold of her right leg, the one she could move, and pulled it up to settle her calf on his shoulder, essentially bending her in half. Raven just went with it, wriggling her leg a bit, adjusting the position so it was more comfortable. Then he did the same to her left leg, which was essentially dead weight. He rested it on his other shoulder and let go—

Her leg instantly started to fall. Wick caught it, then held it in place against his shoulder. He met Raven's eyes, her expression closed off, guarded. 

Wick kept it intentionally light, pushing past it. "Good to know, gotta keep hold." He did, making sure to anchor his hand around her leg as he shifted forward, pressing the head of his cock to her entrance. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't call it, so he kept going, sinking into her inch by inch, until he was fully seated. He made sure to keep his eyes open, breathing even, as sensation slammed into him, sending him reeling.

Whatever he'd been carefully not imagining? The reality was better. 

Raven's eyes closed as she made some kind of noise, something gut deep and satisfied, and then her eyes flew to his, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment again. It brought Wick back to reality, huffing out a laugh and leaning down to kiss her. 

"Good thing you're flexible," he said against her mouth, before pulling back and sinking into her again. This time, she didn't even try to muffle her moan. 

"God, that's good," she mumbled, gripping the arm he had resting by her hip. 

Wick rocked into her one more time, letting himself feel the way every nerve ending lit up—

Then he pulled out and shifted back, bringing her legs down. "Yeah, that'll work."

Raven made another little noise, this one decidedly unhappy, but he tsked at her. "We're not just stopping at the first one."

"We could," she muttered, voice breathy. 

"The spirit of scientific inquiry," he reminded, leaning down to take her mouth again. "And I'm nothing if not thorough," he muttered after he pulled back. She shivered at his words, licking her lips. 

Wick smiled, then pulled away. "Come on. Turn onto your left side."

Raven did, legs straight. Wick pulled her right leg up and bent it around his right side as he straddled her left leg. He lined himself up and thrust into her, sinking deep. 

"Yeah," she breathed out, her right thigh tensing under his hand. 

He thrust into her again, feeling the pleasure wash over him. "This way, your leg's not a factor at all." He grunted as he rocked into her, watching it land on her face, mouth open, sucking in air like she couldn't get enough. 

"What leg?" she mumbled.

"Exactly," he breathed on a laugh. He let himself indulge for a few more thrusts, eyes closing at how good this felt. 

Then he stopped and pulled out, lowering her right leg again. 

"Okay, something different. Um, this leg stays straight," he said, tapping her left leg, still flat on the bed. Then he lifted her right leg, sprawling out on his side between them.

Except her left leg couldn't move to accommodate. Shit. 

Raven leaned up to help. "Here, I can move this—" but Wick waved her off. 

"I got it. You hold your right leg over my shoulder." She did that while he leaned up and shifted her left leg so it rested over him. He kept one hand there and used the other to line himself up and push into her again, this time at a ninety-degree angle. 

Raven grunted something and slumped back, making another of those pleased noises. 

"Yeah, that'll work," Wick said, rocking into her steadily. "If you raise your right leg higher—"

She did and they _both_ groaned as he sank deeper into her. 

"Yeah," Wick said, voice gravelly. He pushed into her a few more times, eyes closing at the heat of it—

Then he snapped his eyes open, remembering. He stopped moving, then pulled himself out of her, again to a disappointed groan. "Yeah, yeah. That'll work, too."

He let go of her left leg and she brought her right one down, watching him, her eyes shining, nipples peaked, the picture of wanton delight. 

Right. Scientific inquiry. 

"Um, let's try crisscross. Your left leg straight, just like that." He crossed his right leg over it. "Your right leg on my shoulder again." She did, which put him at the perfect angle to slide into her. 

"Fuck. Yes," she moaned, head going back, hair spilled out underneath her. 

"'S good, right? I don't even have to hold your leg. Here, gimme your hands." 

Raven raised her head, reaching her hands out and gripping his. Wick used that grip as leverage and pulled, thrusting into her, making both of them gasp.

"I'm down with that one," Raven muttered, using their grip to pull him into her again, arching her back and making more of those hot little noises that only served to remind him how painfully hard he was. And how wet and hot and _perfect_ she was. 

Wick kinda got lost in that movement, in the way her stomach muscles fluttered, how he could see his cock disappearing inside her...

He sucked in a breath and shook himself, releasing her hands abruptly. 

"Wick," she protested.

He ignored that, forging ahead. If he stopped to consider this too deeply, he knew he was going to fucking lose it. So. Not stopping. "Let's do something different. Sit up, legs straight." She shot him a sour look, but sat up. Wick followed suit, sitting facing her, his cock resting heavy against his thigh. "Now your right leg bends over my left hip, foot flat on the bed." She did so as he pulled her left leg over his right hip, hauling her close so he could line himself up again and push inside her. Raven braced herself on her hands, chest heaving, sweat starting to bead on her skin and shine in the light—

But the leverage was off. She couldn't use her left leg to rock herself onto him and he only had one hand to brace himself.

"Fuck," he said succinctly.

"Brace your back against something," she said.

He pulled out of her and moved so his back was to the wall. Raven followed him, trying the same position again. With his hand free to take hold of her hip, he could move her onto him and away, both of them watching his cock slowly disappear into her over and over again. Her breasts swayed with every movement, distracting him. 

"Yeah, that'll work. Now, legs up."

She straightened her right leg so her calf was on his shoulder again. Wick brought her left leg up to the other side, holding it there. He slid into her again, both of them gasping. 

Raven braced herself with her arms, lifting her hips up, thrusting herself onto him, back and forth, back and forth. Her chest heaved with the effort, droplets of sweat sliding down her skin now. He wanted nothing more than to follow them with his tongue. 

"Yeah," Wick said, rough. Then he cleared his throat. "That's good. Let's try something else," he said, thinking through possible positions, no mean feat given the fog of lust currently making rational thought a challenge. "Uhh...spoon. Lie on your left side."

Looking a little regretful, but still following his lead, Raven pushed herself off of him. Wick kept hold of her left leg and lowered it gently. She turned on her left side and he crawled up to face her. 

"Isn't spooning from the back?" she asked, amusement in her voice. 

"If you want to get technical about it." He lifted her right leg so he could push inside her again, then lowered it, increasing the pressure. His mouth found hers as he ground into her slowly, both of them gasping into the kiss, but returning to share more. 

"Good?" he whispered against her mouth.

"Yeah," she breathed before sucking on his tongue again, matching rhythms. 

Wick fell into the aching pleasure of it, the feeling of her so wet and tight around him. He ran his fingers over the curves of her body, skin slick with sweat, exploring, stroking up her side, underneath her breast, his light touches making her shake. And all while the relentless heat of her around him slowly broke his brain.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, sucking in a breath. 

Control. He had control. 

He pulled himself out of her on a disappointed whimper, crawling over so that he was behind, her left leg still resting on the bed. "Since you mentioned it, you could also do it this way." He gripped her hips and angled them back, allowing him to thrust into her again. "It's not my favorite, but others might dig it."

She tipped her head back to look at him even as he thrust into her again, making her eyes flutter closed. They snapped open almost immediately, seeking his out. "Not your favorite?"

"Nah. But it can be good." He pulled out of her then, his point made. 

"Wait, why don't you like it?" She rolled onto her back so she didn't have to crane her neck to look at him.

Wick shrugged and pointed to her position. "For exactly that reason."

Raven looked down at herself, then back to him, shaking her head. "What?"

"I'd want to be able to see you," he said, something low and yearning in his voice. But that was beside the point because this wasn't _real_. If it were real...

But it wasn't, so best not to think about that. 

Raven studied him for a moment, then a tiny smile started at the corner of her mouth. "Wick, you're a romantic."

Wick smiled back, lifting his shoulder and shrugging it off. "All right, mock me if you must. I'm a disgrace to my gender, should turn in my dude card, blah blah."

"You want to look me in the eyes," she said, the 'awww' laced through every word. 

"Shut up." He gestured to her, trying to get them back on track. "If you want to face away, you got a bunch of options that'd work. No doggy-style, but you can put a pillow underneath you to lift your hips that way. You could even wheelbarrow it. Some guys like that."

"Stop talking about other guys, Wick," she said, pulling at his arm. "Come on."

Wick stilled. "What?"

Raven looked at him, eyes soft, trying to tell him something. "This isn't about anyone else. This is me and you."

"...and scientific inquiry," he reminded her, something weird happening in his voice.

Raven just shook her head, getting a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him close, resting their foreheads together. "You know it's not. It's not just friends. It's not about other people. And I..." she trailed off, seeming to search for the words. Or the strength to say them. "I don't want it to be." 

It landed like a shock to the system, an explosion when you weren't expecting it, suddenly sucking up all the air in the room. 

"I..." He had zero idea what to say to that. He didn't have a plan for this. He didn't think _this_ could ever need a plan, it was so impossible. 

Raven smiled against his mouth. "Mark down the date and time. Wick has nothing to say."

Wick breathed out a laugh, then kissed her, the only kind of answer that made any sense. She kissed him back, mouth open, wanting. Wick let himself get lost in it—because he _could_ —kissing her until she was gasping for air, clutching at his shoulders, trying to get more. 

"Come on," she muttered, voice a wreck, pulling him to her. 

Wick rolled between her legs, rocking his still very hard cock against her thigh, getting a moan for the effort. Raven broke away from the kiss, eyes dead serious. 

"Inside me. Right now."

Wick shook his head, trying to focus. "Which did you like best—"

Raven made a frustrated noise, wrapping her right leg around his hips and reaching down to position him. The feeling of her fingers on his cock wiped thought clean out of his brain. It was all instinct that had him pressing into her, seating himself on a quick thrust and her gasped out, _yes_. 

Then it was a frantic haze of thrusting into tight, wet heat, his mouth on hers as she cursed and moaned, hands anchored around his shoulders, demanding more, harder. 

He'd been hard too long, his control shot, so all he could do was ride the wave, getting a hand in between them, working her clit. She cried out, muscles tensing, and Wick pulled back to watch, thrusting deep as his fingers moved over her, making her fall apart underneath him, abandoning herself to it. 

She came with a muffled cry, her expression totally open, muscles fluttering around his cock, and at the sight his control finally cracked, coming like a white hot rush, all short, jerky thrusts and the sound of blood pounding in his ears. 

After they just panted into each other's mouths, both of them trying to regain their bearings. Wick groaned as he pulled out, Raven echoing the sentiment. He flopped down beside her, one leg thrown over hers, hand resting on her stomach. He could still feel the muscles shaking there. 

They were silent for a moment. Then Raven started laughing. 

Wick raised his head to look at her. "What?"

"Missionary," she said, eyes alight with it, looking more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. 

It took him a minute, but then he realized, breathing out a laugh. "That was your call."

"Hope you didn't find it too boring," she teased, reaching over to pull him close. 

Wick curled up against her. "Classic. I should've said classic."

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


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